From Ashes and Dust (Book One)

Chapter 1.1

Vatra scowled. The fast-approaching water had proved to be an unexpected obstacle. She edged the nose of the ship dangerously close to the ferocious whitecaps. An alarm blared in defiance throughout the cockpit.

"PULL UP. PULL UP." The voice repeated monotonously until Vatra slammed her fist onto the control panel. With a sputter, the alarm stopped.

"I do not think it was saying that as a suggestion," the man beside Vatra warned. He was leaning forward against the restraints holding him in his seat; pale skin even whiter as he watched the ocean approach with his brown, doey-eyes.

Gritting her teeth, Vatra tested the pull of the controls. "Don't patronize me, Spyro. I've done this a thousand times."

A streaking light of yellow passed by the window to the far right, and Spyro flinched away from the blast. The attack had missed, barely, but still sent the ship rocking. Its trail of fire followed into the dark depths of the sea below. Another blast crossed their path directly. It would have smashed against the hull, but instead broke across a shimmering mirage of white light surrounding their vessel.

"The shields are down to thirty-percent," Spyro said with a tap to the control panel. "We cannot take much more of their attacks."

"I know," Vatra growled. She tipped the controls further, diving down to a large wave that towered nearly twenty stories above the ocean. Like a beast emerging hungrily from the depths, the wave clawed at the metal of their ship.

Spyro reached out with one arm and gripped the edges of the control panel. He braced against his seat with the other hand. Though not very muscular in build, Spyro looked like he could have snapped the control panel in two. Veins popped against his forearms. 

"I do not think I have to point out that we are heading directly for that wave," Spyro stated.

"Nope," Vatra said. The corner of her mouth twitched upward as she threw the ship into a complete nosedive, nearly inverting the vessel. She couldn't quell the flip in her stomach from the out-of-ordinary style of travel.

The ship caressed the edge of the wave, skimming along its surface right before dipping down over the cap. Vatra carefully guided the ship along the wave, hovering just between the line of being caught in the ocean's pull, and maintaining full control. The ship was now protected from attacks by the arc of the wave towering high above them.

Through the glass extending around the entirety of the cockpit, Vatra could see nearly all around them. She caught the sight of a ship barreling through the wave, spinning out of control to the ocean below. The water planet of Doatis was particularly hungry.

"There is one more enemy ship behind us," Spyro said. He watched the wreckage floating on the surface with an unblinking gaze. A muscle on his squared jawline twitched, almost in a sign of irritation. "I am not sure that trick will work again."

"I didn't count on it." Vatra turned hard to the right, riding the wave down. She gripped the controls and focused with every bit of muscle to not send them into a watery grave. Drowning wasn't her favorite way to die.

She turned her head slightly, watching the last remaining ship mimicking their path, though further away from the wave. It was the first opportunity she had to get a good look at the pirates that had started firing on them when they ventured into the Grey Belt.

Their gambol was only supposed to be a short-cut. How apt the term for the quick travel across galaxies sounded for the situation they'd found themselves in. It was how the term had been coined, anyway. Someone hundreds of years ago had taken a gamble on the engine they'd created for faster space travel.